rong direction?"

"Well, whether right or wrong, it's not for me to say but for you to
prove, Mr Christian."

This reply seemed to set the mind of the other wandering, for he
continued to lead his companion down the hill in silence after that. At
last he said--

"John Adams, whatever turn my head may have got, I shall have reason to
thank God for it all the days of my life--ay, and afterwards throughout
eternity."

The silence which ensued after this remark was broken soon after by a
series of yells, which came from the direction of Matthew Quintal's
house, and caused both Christian and Adams to frown as they hastened
forward.

"There's one man that needs forgiveness," said Adams, sternly. "Whether
he'll get it or not is a question."

Christian made no reply. He knew full well that both McCoy and Quintal
were in the habit of flogging their slaves, Nehow and Timoa, and
otherwise treating them with great cruelty. Indeed, there had reached
him a report of treatment so shocking that he could scarcely credit it,
and thought it best at the time to take no notice of the rumour; but
afterwards he was told of a repetition of the cruelty, and now he seemed
about to witness it with his own eyes. Burning indignation at first
fired his soul, and he resolved to punish Quintal. Then came the
thought, "Who was it that tempted Quintal to mutiny, and placed him in
his present circumstances?" The continued cries of agony, however,
drove all connected thought from his brain as he ran with Adams towards
the house.

They found poor Nehow tied to a cocoa-nut tree, and Quintal beside him.
He had just finished giving him a cruel flogging, and was now engaged in
rubbing salt into the wounds on his lacerated back.

With a furious shout Christian rushed forward. Quintal faced round
quickly. He was livid with passion, and raised a heavy stick to strike
the intruders; but Christian guarded the blow with his left arm, and
with his right fist knocked the monster down. At the same time Adams
cut the lashings that fastened Nehow, who instantly fled to the bush.

Quintal, although partially stunned, rose at once and faced his
adversary, but although possessed of bulldog courage, he could not
withstand the towering wrath of Christian. He shrank backward a step,
with a growl like a cowed but not conquered tiger.

"The slave is _mine_!" he hissed between his teeth.

"He is _not_; he belongs to God," said Christian. "And hark 'ee,